


Every Picture Tells A Story

by cindergal



Series: Picture This [2]
Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Baby Fic, Future Fic, M/M, Train What Train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindergal/pseuds/cindergal
Summary: The photographs in Reid's wallet tell the story of his life.





	Every Picture Tells A Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alicesprings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicesprings/gifts).



> Written for alicesprings, who won my services with her very generous donation in the Help Japan auction. Part 2 of the "Picture This" verse.

 

Importing some of my old fic from LJ. Originally posted there 6/9/2011.

 

 _I firmly believed that I didn't need anyone but me_  
_I sincerely thought I was so complete_  
_Look how wrong you can be_  
~Every Picture Tells A Story by R. Stewart/R. Wood

 

There is a photograph that Reid keeps in his wallet. It's in the back behind the credit cards, faded with age, creased and torn in one corner. It's a photo of a seven year-old Reid sitting between his parents, smiling and happy, still blissfully unaware of the tragedy about to befall him. His Uncle Angus, in a rare sentimental gesture, had given it to him shortly after Reid moved in with him - after his parents had died in a car accident and his whole world fell out from underneath him. He hardly ever looks at it, but he keeps it there just the same. It’s the only thing he has left of them.

Reid has never associated the word ‘family’ with happiness or comfort or warmth the way he gathers most people do. Family is fear and pain and loss, and later pressure and expectation and anger. Reid got away from Angus, his only living relative, as soon as he was legally and financially able to do so and never looked back. He’s kept people and relationships at arms length because, in his experience, they’re much more trouble than they’re worth. And it’s not like he hasn’t gotten along fine all by himself. He put himself through college and med school; he became a respected physician - the _most_ respected in his field. He has esteem and money and work that he loves that challenges him every day. Why would he want anything else? Why would he need anything else? That's what he's always thought. That's what he's always been certain of.

Until he met Luke Snyder.

***

"Your family is certifiable," Reid says, around a mouthful of food. "You realize that, don't you?"

Luke just smiles. "Sing me a new song, Dr. Oliver. And you didn't have to come, you know."

This is true. Reid didn't have to make this particular visit to crazy land. In fact, he never _has_ to attend any of these events. Luke never expects him to, and never gets upset when he doesn‘t - but he does light up like a Christmas tree every time Reid manages to make it to one, which is of course why Reid found himself asking another doctor to cover the second half of his shift so he could come to Luke's grandmother's house for this latest...something or other.

"I have a confession to make," Reid says. Luke leans in closer in order to hear him, and Reid inhales deeply. "You smell better than Emma's lasagna."

Luke grins and gives him a kiss. "That's your confession?"

"Mmm, no. I got distracted. My confession is...I have no idea whose birthday it is."

Luke laughs loudly, and a couple of people turn to look at them, but soon enough their attention is drawn back to the argument that's just broken out between Luke's Aunt Meg and her latest husband. Or ex-husband. He thinks that's who the guy is, anyway.

"It's no one's birthday," Luke says above the din. "It's to celebrate Aunt Meg's release from the hospital."

"Ah! Her latest escape from the loony bin, that's right! See, I told you. Certifiable. Literally."

Luke shakes his head at Reid. "Yeah, well. Crazy or not, you're stuck with us." He tries for stern and exasperated, but his expression just reads fond bemusement, and Reid kisses him for that, then steals a cookie off his plate.

Stuck with the crazy Snyders, Reid realizes, is really not _so_ bad. First, there’s Katie, who‘s the good kind of crazy, and Jacob, who has turned into one cool little kid. And both of Luke's grandmothers are amazing in totally different ways. Luke's siblings are funny and smart and he doesn't hate spending time with them, either. Reid's even been known to enjoy a ballgame and a cold beer with Holden on occasion, and it's a rather pleasant way to spend an afternoon. And he and Lily might not have much in common, but they both love Luke, and that's enough for Reid.

He glances over at Luke, who is beginning to look concerned over the increasingly elevated voices of his relatives. They all might be crazy, but they provide hours of amusement for Reid. And let's face it, he'd put up with pretty much anything even if he didn‘t find it endlessly entertaining, because he loves Luke. He loves him so much that he’s even given up being annoyed with himself about it.

Meg stands up and slaps her ex across the face. Luke flinches.

"Reid, I think I ought to..."

"Marry me."

Luke blinks. "What did you say?" He gestures vaguely toward the ruckus. "It's a little loud..."

Reid leans in closer. "I said, _marry me._ It's legal now, right? Let's get married. Throw a big party. We can take bets on who throws the first punch."

Luke's huge grin threatens to split his face wide open. "Really? You want to get married? _Really?_ "

"You want I should get down on one knee, Mr. Snyder? Because I'll get down on my knees for you any time you want..."

Luke takes Reid's face in his hands, laughing. "Maybe later," he says, and kisses him hard. “Definitely later.”

"Should I take that as a yes?" Reid asks.

"Oh yeah," Luke says, and kisses him some more. Reid hears glass breaking somewhere off to his left, but he doesn't pay too much attention. It's just their crazy family.

***

There is a photograph that Reid keeps in his wallet. It’s in the front, shielded from harm by a protective plastic sleeve. He snagged it one day when Lily was showing him old family photos, back when he and Luke's relationship had been brand spanking new. He couldn’t have said then why he took it. He just...wanted it. It's a photo of Luke as a little guy, maybe two years old, perched happily on Damian’s knee with Lily smiling next to them, the three of them together looking for all the world like the perfect family. Reid knows that’s a fantasy. There was no happily ever after, there.

But that doesn’t matter, because whatever his parents put him through, somehow Luke has managed to retain the happy part - the open heart and optimistic spirit that Reid sees shining out of those big brown eyes in both the photograph and in the man that he looks at every day. Reid knows now why he took that picture home with him. It's because Luke makes him _want_ things. Things he’s never wanted before. Or has been too afraid to admit he wants. Because loving people is terrifying. If you love them, they can hurt you. They can leave. They can _die._ They can disappoint you. Or they can be disappointed _in_ you. It takes courage to love someone else. It takes courage to let them love you back.

Reid wants to be as brave as Luke is.

***

Reid unlocks the door and opens it as quietly as he can, not an easy task as he’s juggling his keys, the mail, his medical bag, and a sack of old baby things of Jacob's that Katie forced on him that he's finally remembered to take out of the car. It’s nearly eight in the morning, but there is no longer “day” and “night” in their house; there is only “Daisy is asleep” and “Daisy is awake.” But the house is quiet save for the sound of a TV on low, and when Reid walks into the family room, Luke looks up at him, bleary-eyed, from his seat on the sofa, their baby girl asleep on his chest. Reid pauses on the threshold for a moment, heart caught in his throat. That rush of feeling, it catches him off guard every single time.

“You’re home,” Luke says. It’s nearly a whisper, but there’s such a sense of relief behind the words that Reid has to smile.

“Rough night?” Reid pushes aside an empty bottle and sets his things down on the coffee table. He sits down next to Luke, pressing a kiss to his temple, then one to Daisy's, careful not to wake her.

“She was colicky. Again. Neither of us slept much with all the crying.”

“Hers or yours?” Reid asks.

“Ha. A little of both. Seriously though, who knew someone so small could make so much noise?”

They're both talking in low voices, quiet and intimate, and Reid feels like he's inside a bubble that he never wants to break.

“Well, she comes by it naturally, I suppose. I mean, look at the kid’s DNA. Between you and Katie she was pre-programmed to be mouthy.”

Luke shakes his head, but he‘s smiling. “You are on a roll, Dr. Oliver. Hilarious, really.”

Reid chuckles and runs his hand over the baby’s downy head. She snuffles a little, burrowing deeper into Luke’s soft cotton t-shirt as she clenches a bit of the fabric in her tiny fist. Reid’s eyes meet Luke’s, and he’s overcome with such a wave of affection for the two of them that he has to close his eyes for a moment. He kisses Luke softly on the mouth, heat flaring up between them like always. Luke angles his head, deepening the kiss for just a moment. He pulls away with a sigh.

“Sorry. I know I must taste disgusting.”

It’s true that Luke probably hasn’t brushed his teeth in hours, and hasn’t showered in longer. His baggy t-shirt and sweat pants are rumpled and stained and smell like sour milk. His hair is a little greasy and there are dark circles under his eyes. And Reid's still drawn to him like he’s never been to anyone else.

Reid reaches up and cups Luke's cheek, running his thumb over several days worth of stubble. “Maybe a little,” he concedes. “But I’d still do ya.”

“Oh...” Luke says, voice filled with longing, “that would be nice. How long has it been, anyway?”

“I don’t...remember. How old is she?”

Luke laughs. “Six weeks? Well, we’ve done it a couple of times since then, haven’t we? Or maybe that was that just my imagination...”

“Well, she’s asleep now,” Reid points out. “Here’s our chance.”

“But you’re probably exhausted, too. You were at the hospital all night.”

“I’m okay. I slept in the on-call room.” He doesn’t mention that after a five hour surgery, he got to lay down for about ten minutes before being paged to the ER. His feet hurt and his back aches and there’s a monster of a headache lurking in the back of his head, waiting to pounce. But he’s not going to mention that and ruin a chance at some alone time with Luke.

“I’ll put her down in her crib, and take a quick shower. And I mean _quick!_ ” Luke whispers loudly. He stands up, still cradling the baby to his chest. She’s so small that her entire head fits in the palm of his hand, and Reid is struck once again by his ease with her. He's not surprised at all by Luke's infinite patience and capacity for love, but he _is_ constantly amazed by him. Reid has a feeling that Luke's three-month leave of absence is going to last a little bit longer than that.

After Luke heads upstairs, Reid takes in the state of the family room and sighs. He remembers the good old days, back when his coffee table was bare and clean instead of strewn with bottles and rattles and bibs. The nights when the only thing that woke him up was the need to save a life, not change a diaper. He smiles to himself. Okay, maybe those days weren’t so good.

He starts to clean things up much as he can until he hears the shower turn off, but then he's taking the stairs two at a time. He's pulled his shirt over his head by the time he reaches the bedroom door, and Luke, still damp and warm from his shower, grabs him and kisses him as soon as he walks in the room. They're both fumbling desperately with Reid's belt when the crying starts. Luke groans in frustration and rests his head against Reid's shoulder.

"Maybe we should have gone with your quieter DNA," Luke says.

"Next time."

Luke lifts his head and beams a smile at him.

Reid shrugs. "And perhaps you haven't noticed, but I kind of like your DNA."

"I love you," Luke says.

"I love you, too. Now get in bed," Reid says. "I'll go."

"Hurry back," Luke says, giving him a lingering kiss first.

Daisy is wailing and red-faced when he enters the nursery, but he knows what the problem is as soon as he picks her up.

“Not only do you make a lot of noise for such a tiny person,” he tells her, “you make a lot of poop, too.”

By the time he gets her changed, she is cooing softly, staring up at him with her big, expressive eyes.

“You look just like your other daddy, you know that kid? Lucky for you, because he's a looker." And while the doctor side of him tells him it's only gas, the dad in him will swear that she smiles at him. He picks her up and holds her against his shoulder, tufts of her fine hair tickling his cheek, her sweet smell filling his nose.

“I suppose you want a song now, right? What’ll it be? Top forty? Oldies? Eighties hair bands?” He starts to sing a Beatles song that he’s not even sure how he knows, but half-way through it a memory comes back to him. He’s lying in his bed, and his mother is singing softly to him as she tucks the covers around him. Reid has never had many memories of his parents, and he doesn’t have to be a brain surgeon to know why his photographic memory never applied to them. But he remembers, now. His mother loved the Beatles. Reid’s throat starts to tighten up and his voice falters, but Daisy doesn’t seem to mind. Her breathing is steady and she’s relaxed against his shoulder. He kisses her head and keeps singing.

It doesn't take more than fifteen minutes for him to get Daisy back to sleep, but Luke's already snoring softly by the time he makes it back across the hall to their room. Reid shucks off the rest of his clothes and slides under the cool sheets next to Luke.

"Sorry. So tired," Luke mumbles as he turns toward Reid, tucking his head under Reid's chin and throwing an arm over his chest.

"It's okay," Reid says, carding his fingers through Luke's hair. "Me too."

But as tired as Reid is, he doesn't fall asleep right away. The sun is shining outside, slivers of light filtering through the blinds. He listens to Luke's soft breaths beside him, and Daisy's from the baby monitor, and knows everyone inside this house is safe and warm and happy.

***

There is a photograph that Reid keeps in his wallet. It's right up front, protected from harm by a plastic sleeve. It's a picture of their family on Daisy’s first birthday, Luke and Daisy with their matching grins, and Reid smiling much as he is in the photo with his parents. He keeps that one in a protective sleeve now, too, tucked behind the others.

Sometimes he still gets terrified. He looks at Luke and Daisy, and the thought of losing them fills him with a terror he hasn’t felt since his parents died. But then Luke will kiss him, or Daisy will throw her arms around him and call him Daddy, and he gets over it, lets it go for the moment. Because being with them is worth it. It’s worth everything.

Because of Luke, Reid’s learned how to be brave. And happy.

 


End file.
